


Elias behaving badly

by skinsuit



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Crack Fic, Divorced old bastards, Drunk!Elias, Elias is drunk, Implied Lonelyeyes, Jon is a lightweight, M/M, Non Canonical, Oak & Owl pub, Season 3, drunk archivist, drunk elias, drunken antics, eye powers are harder when to you use when you are drunk, the oak & owl pub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24571441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinsuit/pseuds/skinsuit
Summary: post nth-Divorce Elias keeps texting Jon cuz he has NO Friends and is trying to gang-press an EMPLOYEE to keep him company and celebrate
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my new BETA reader TragicRelief.

**World's most Invasive boss**

 **Elias** : Guess who lost 250 pounds of stupid weight?

 **Jon** : ….you?

 **Elias** : Precisely, I have divorced Peter for what I think is the final time, Archivist. 

**Jon** : ‘ you think?’

 **Jon** :… Elias, why are you telling me this?

 **Elias** : Because I wish to celebrate it with you,Jon.

 **Jon** : Don’t you have other friends?

 **Elias** : That’s not important. Anyhow most of them were ‘Peter’s friends’.

 **Jon** : Right. So you want me to…?

 **Elias** : Come out for a drink or two at Oak & Owl!

 **Jon** : Why should I?

 **Elias** : I know you don’t have other plans and are alone tonight.

 **Jon** : Yes but why?

 **Elias** : Do you think you are perhaps paid a bit excessively given your recent performance at work?

 **Jon** :… I’ll come but I’m bringing Martin.

 **Elias** : Fine … see you soon, Archivist. 😉

**Martin**

 **Jon** : Fancy a drink at the Oak & Owl?

 **Martin** : Yes.

 **Martin** : Wait why are you asking?

 **Jon** : Apparently Elias has divorced his husband for the ‘last time’ and ‘wants to celebrate’ he gang-pressed me into it.

 **Martin** : Right and you can’t tell him no.

 **Jon** : That’s not a good idea. You know how he is….

 **Martin** :…yes I do. So you want me to?

 **Jon** : 🙂Help me record any stupid things he does while drunk. I’ll be in no state. You know how I get when you I’m drinking.

 **Martin** : So we’re going drinking with our scary boss?

 **Jon** : Yep. 

**Martin** : I’ll get my coat and meet you outside your flat. 

~~~~

They both knew the Oak & Owl was the pub nearest to the institute, where other people from work drank. Elias was at the bar, and judging by the half empty gin and tonic at his elbow, the flush on his face, and his missing blazer, he was already drunk. 

“Jon! Martin! So lovely to see you here,” Elias said with uncharacteristic warmth as he walked over to them. 

“Erm yeah,” Martin said.

“Right,” Jon said, scowling.

“I took the liberty of ordering drinks for both of you,” Elias said, grinning he went back to the bar.

“Martin, I believe you take a Thatcher’s gold cider,” Elias said.

“How did you…?” Martin asked but took the pint.

“And for the Archivist, a whisky.” Elias said and handed Jon his drink.

“Thank you,” Jon took a sip and his eyes widened. “This is actually not bad.”

“I had a feeling you’d enjoy it.” Elias replied. “Peter always liked scotch. It tastes like licking an ashtray. It’s as bad as those blasted cigars he smokes. He’s smoking one now, sitting alone in some miserable hotel room.”

There was an awkward pause and everyone just drank. Then Martin spoke.

“So now he’s not your husband anymore, you don’t have to deal with that?” 

“Yes, didn’t need him anyhow, he looks like a ripoff Hemingway and not a good one,” Elias said venomously. “However, I’m here to celebrate the future without him and not dwell on him. He’s a miserable, lonely bastard.”

“Yes well… errrmm cheers?” Martin said.

And they drank more and deeply. Jon looked at Martin and Martin looked at him: this was very awkward. Tom the bartender was cleaning glasses and humming. Martin watched Tom for a while, Tom was old, bald and wore sunglasses wasn’t he blind? 

“Right, well, this calls for another round,” Elias said as he downed his last gin and tonic, and proceeded to take off his tie and was beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I’m not finished with my cider.” Martin said.

“Fine! It’ll be for Jon and I,” Elias said. “That is alright with you Archivist?”

Jon blinked dazedly. “Errr, I guess.”

Oh no, Jon was drunk as well. Elias toddled over to the bar. Thus began the long night.

When Elias returned with fresh drinks, Jon had already 

begun his drunk rambling about various fads in the 18th and 19th century and on how to make soap. Elias continued ranting about his ex and all Martin could do was nod and nurse his drink. 

Another round came and went. Elias took off his cuff links--tiny silver eyes with sapphires in the middle. 

“He gave them to me as an engagement gift,” he said contemptuously with a bit of wobble in his voice. “You want them, Archivist?” 

Jon looked up from the bar, puzzled. When he saw the objects in Elias’s hand, he shook his head. “Err no.”

“Tom!” Elias shouted to the barman. “Please take these and pawn them or melt them down or something.”

Tom the blind bartender trudged over and swept them off the bar. He pulled a face that only Martin noticed. Elias was too busy unbuttoning more of his shirt and leaning heavily on the bar. 

“Are you sure?” Tom asked.

“Yes. I remember our first divorce,” Elias said. “Peter had a yacht then. I won it and let Jude Perry have a BBQ on it. I wish I could have seen his face.”

“F-first divorce?” Jon stuttered.

“Yes, well, I keep marrying him again, no idea why, really.” Elias sighed, trying to sound as if he didn’t care. “I mean… I don’t really... want... him…” 

He couldn’t see Elias’s face, but Martin suspected he was crying. Jon nudged Martin and whispered, “Get out your phone.”

Martin fumbled, but by the time he’d gotten his phone out, Elias was facing them again, grinning and flushed, but tear-free. 

“We need shots,” he announced. 

“We do?” Jon muttered. “Alright.”

“Are you sure?” Martin asked.

Elias had already come back, bearing three tequila shots. They knocked it back with a shudder. Then two more times. Martin felt warm and slightly dizzy. Jon was stumbling, and Elias was bright red, his shirt half-way open, exposing a white undershirt and a bit of pale skin. He was texting someone on his mobile.

“I needed that and now…I need kebabsh…” Elias stumbled. “We are gonna get kebabs… fuck Peter, he’s not answering.”

“Yeah….. ‘m hungry.” Jon said. “And I need a fag.”

Martin blinked, sipped his cider. When he blinked nobody was around him. where did they go?

Martin wondered how sober he was himself. He wished he could put them on a leash, like some mums’ did with toddlers. When he found Elias again, his boss was in a corner, sniffling and staring at his phone. Martin still hadn’t found Jon. 

“Peter is the worst, stupid beard… stupid family bloody, awful taste in furniture…” Elias wiped his eyes. 

“C’mon, Elias, we have to find Jon,” Martin said.

“Ah, our archivist ran off, did he? Well…. I’ll help…” Elias squinted and wobbled. His brow wrinkled, squinting harder, then un-furrowed. “He’s outside… blowin’ a fag heh…. That …that… gabe’ me a headache…”

“Thanks,” Martin said. “Now I think we should find him.” 

“Right.” Elias got up, and they staggered out into the night.

“YOU!” Jon shouted at a passerby, waving his cigarette in another hand. “TELL ME ABOUT THE WASPS!”

The passerby--a large scary looking man--paused and glared at Jon. “Wot?”

“YEAH THE WASPS …WHEN YOU WERE … SIX… I’M HUNGRY….” Jon staggered over to the man.

“Listen pal, I’m not telling you nothing, and if you don't leave me alone…” The man began clenching his fists.

Martin walked over to Jon and turned him around to face the other way. “I’m sorry, my friend is just confused and… drunk, very drunk.”

“…’m still hungry.” Jon said sullenly..

“How about a nice kebab instead?” Martin asked.

Jon licked his lips, took another drag on his cigarette and pouted. “….that sounds tasty….”

He had Jon, but Elias was nowhere to be seen.

“Ugh,” Martin groaned. His head swam. He was in no condition to mind two stupid drunks.

Eventually Martin found Elias trying to smoke but failing to light the cigarette, sobbing by the wall of the pub. Jon nudged Martin again. 

“Now, do it now…” Jon said, not bothering to whisper

“Martin…if you could?” Elias held up a silver engraved lighter. “Blasted thing won’t …work… should know better… it’s -romm him… bloody Peter…. Bloody awful Peter…”

Martin took the lighter and flicked it. He lit the cigarette dangling from Elias’s mouth. He led the two stumbling drunks to the nearest döner kebab place. He ordered for them despite Jon’s attempts to get the man behind the counter to talk about a ‘door you know… it ate yer cousin.’

“I needed this,” Elias said, wolfing down the kebab, all dignity gone, then breaking down with bits of salad sticking out of his mouth. “…I miss him! Why did we divorce?! Stupid… fucking…. Bloody… Peter….” 

Martin had managed to get out his phone this time and got a good shot of Elias sobbing into his food. Jon was busy trying to get a statement out of his kebab.

There was a swirling mist in an alleyway. Odd, thought Martin as he stuffed the kebab into his own mouth. He didn’t remember it being cold, but the air felt freezing. Elias glared at the mist. It seemed to swirl closer to Elias.

Jon was crying, having apparently dropped the rest of his food. Martin patted Jon on the shoulder. 

“There, there, I’ll buy you some more…” He said.

“-Ank you…” Jon muttered, sniffling.

He turned back in time to see the mist engulf Elias and vanish. Elias was gone.

“What?!” Martin yelped.

Jon just stared, wobbling, then began to laugh.

“What?!” Martin yelped again.

“I’ll explain…later…” Jon said. “We need more …food.”

So they got another helping of döner and later took the night bus back to Jon’s flat. Martin decided it would be better to sleep there next to Jon rather than try and get home himself. He was just about to go to sleep when he recalled Elias disappearing… Martin was about to ask Jon, but he was already snoring heavily. No matter, Martin thought as he drifted off to sleep. 

  
  



	2. epilogue

All of the archive staff were in the break room that morning.

“You two look awful,” said Melanie.

“Thanks, we know,” Jon said, rubbing his forehead. “Elias made us come out to celebrate his divorce.”

“What, Elias wanted you two get drunk with him?” Tim scoffed.

“Yeah,” Martin said. “I managed to get a clip of him: drunk and sobbing into a kebab!”

“Really?” Basira asked looking up from her book.

“Oh, I want to see this!” Melanie said with relish.

“Me too,” Tim added.

Martin proudly put his phone on the table and queued up the clip, everyone gathered ‘round.

There was a pause.

“It says: error: format not recognized,” Tim said.

“Huh,” Martin said. “That’s funny. I’ll play it through a different app.”

Martin tried again, and the clip began to play. Pixelated, distorted, and the audio didn’t seem to work. Then another pop up showed up: error: file corrupted. Martin squeaked and put down his phone.

“Well I saved the text he sent me,” Jon said. “Screenshotted it and… No it’s not loading.”

That was when Elias Bouchard walked into the breakroom, looking well-rested and put together. He casually took a small plate out from a drawer and fished several biscuits from a tin.

“So we heard about last night, boss…” Tim said, smirking.

“Whatever do you mean?” Elias feigned innocence.

“Your divorce and all…” Melanie said with a grin.

Elias took a biscuit from the plate, a gleaming silver wedding band on his ring finger, and on his cuffs, a silver eye-shaped cuff-links with sapphire studs.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I am currently very happily married,” he said with a smile and began to eat the biscuit.

Martin gasped. Elias finished a mouthful of biscuit.

“Look, you made us come out with you…” Jon began.

“Did I, Archivist?” Elias said with a grin. “It seems you have no evidence of it.”

Elias was smiling as he took his saucer of biscuits and swept out the break-room.


End file.
